Ian Sturrock wrote:As an ex-shopkeeper myself (not at GW) I can understand the retail managers' frustration at people who are there often but never buy! As a customer, I would feel awkward doing that. I'd want to at least buy a small item every second visit or so -- even if it was just a pot of paint or a snap-together kit. Sure, I could save 50p or £1 buying elsewhere, but there's a courtesy issue I think. You have no obligation to buy, but really, the manager has no obligation to provide free gaming space to people who do all their buying on eBay. I do *most* of my buying on eBay too... but I'd still pick up some Gryphonne Sepia or something, to show willing.

Ian Sturrock wrote:As an ex-shopkeeper myself (not at GW) I can understand the retail managers' frustration at people who are there often but never buy! As a customer, I would feel awkward doing that. I'd want to at least buy a small item every second visit or so -- even if it was just a pot of paint or a snap-together kit. Sure, I could save 50p or £1 buying elsewhere, but there's a courtesy issue I think. You have no obligation to buy, but really, the manager has no obligation to provide free gaming space to people who do all their buying on eBay. I do *most* of my buying on eBay too... but I'd still pick up some Gryphonne Sepia or something, to show willing.

candy.man wrote:I get the feeling that a decent percentage of GW staff suffer from being too far up on their high horse. As someone who’s been in a couple of customer service jobs (where majority of the clients are rude and unpleasant to deal with), there’s always the temptation of thinking that “you’re better then the customer” which in turns causes a reduction of quality in service.

Rimmy wrote:my fav was I did a demo game for this kid, maybe 8 or 9. any RS knows demo games the rules are irrelevant, its just to show the premise of the game not the try and teach it to anyone in 2 mins or less.

so I used to apply VERY basic rules to it, and I was REALLY amped on this day, just in a REALLY good mood. so I had arms flailing and explosion noises and pew pew noises and full long names and titles (this was the BFM starter set days so nids and Ultramarines)

this kid was REALLY into it. having a ball. (now having children of my own, I REALLY am glad I made that kid smile, my oldest was 6 months old at the time, she is now 6)

when we were done i'm sweating, the kids got a grin from ear to ear, I looked up and said, SO.... Did you enjoy the game?" kids smiling saying yes, looks at mom, mom looks at me and says he certainly did! "Good! can I interest you in viewing our starter set and maybe brining this excitement home?"

without missing a BEAT his mom looks at me and says "only if you come with it. I haven't seen that much energey in my house since before he was born."

I have never turned so red, IN my life. heat was just eminating off of my face.

I sold them a great starter package, got a big kudos from my manager, and as she's walking out she says, "so you'll be here to play with me when we come back right?.... the game too?"

By the Emporer's hand that actually happenned.

Frazzled wrote:

Che-Vito wrote:

n0t_u wrote:Someone started talking to me about lesbians, I was asked to leave[i] (there were kids around) [/i]with them despite them being the only one talking and me try to politely distance myself...

You know, you'd likely never be asked to leave a store for talking about heterosexual people.
If there are kids around, they can deal.

Or you can deal. You have no right to anything, except death and taxes.

n0t_u wrote:It was a somewhat demeaning monologue, though was stopped before it got too far out of hand. Pretty damn random though. I'm also not in America, thought the rights should be pretty much the same besides the gun.


I like reading threads like this, always an interesting story or two.

Che-Vito wrote:

n0t_u wrote:Someone started talking to me about lesbians, I was asked to leave[i] (there were kids around) [/i]with them despite them being the only one talking and me try to politely distance myself...

You know, you'd likely never be asked to leave a store for talking about heterosexual people.
If there are kids around, they can deal.

boyd wrote:

Che-Vito wrote:

n0t_u wrote:Someone started talking to me about lesbians, I was asked to leave[i] (there were kids around) [/i]with them despite them being the only one talking and me try to politely distance myself...

You know, you'd likely never be asked to leave a store for talking about heterosexual people.
If there are kids around, they can deal.

Something tells me it had nothing to do with their orientation but the activities they were engaging in. If you were to talk about two or more heterosexual people engaging in the same acts with children present it still wouldn't make the conversation appropriate. Why would graphic discussions about coitus be appropriate around minors?

Che-Vito wrote:

Frazzled wrote:

Che-Vito wrote:

n0t_u wrote:Someone started talking to me about lesbians, I was asked to leave[i] (there were kids around) [/i]with them despite them being the only one talking and me try to politely distance myself...

You know, you'd likely never be asked to leave a store for talking about heterosexual people.
If there are kids around, they can deal.

Or you can deal. You have no right to anything, except death and taxes.

Frazzled, I've had a healthy respect for your posts and like almost everything you've had to say, but the above one is absolutely abhorrent to me.

I'd like to think that we all can play a part in ending institutionalized descrimination; and that starts with people's attitude. If people want to discuss things that store owner is not comfortable with, then they can absolutely be asked to leave. Their store, and their rules.

My issue is with n0t_u saying that talking about lesbians (without defining whether the speech was demeaning or not.) is unacceptable because children were around.
America promises certain rights, and needs to promise equal 'rights' to those that don't have them. Use 'privileges' if the word suits you better; but your attempt at a jaded comment comes off as worse than uneducated.

poda_t wrote:

Che-Vito wrote:

Frazzled wrote:

Che-Vito wrote:

n0t_u wrote:Someone started talking to me about lesbians, I was asked to leave[i] (there were kids around) [/i]with them despite them being the only one talking and me try to politely distance myself...

You know, you'd likely never be asked to leave a store for talking about heterosexual people.
If there are kids around, they can deal.

Or you can deal. You have no right to anything, except death and taxes.

Frazzled, I've had a healthy respect for your posts and like almost everything you've had to say, but the above one is absolutely abhorrent to me.

I'd like to think that we all can play a part in ending institutionalized descrimination; and that starts with people's attitude. If people want to discuss things that store owner is not comfortable with, then they can absolutely be asked to leave. Their store, and their rules.

My issue is with n0t_u saying that talking about lesbians (without defining whether the speech was demeaning or not.) is unacceptable because children were around.
America promises certain rights, and needs to promise equal 'rights' to those that don't have them. Use 'privileges' if the word suits you better; but your attempt at a jaded comment comes off as worse than uneducated.

kid. You be young. Frazzled be telling the truth. Rights entitle you to make whatever choices you need for following through on obligations. I know im barely a fart older than you.... but..... hej, gak happens and you either grow up or end up feeling like everyone owes you something. Frazzled wasn't picking on you with that comment.

And let's be honest. We know the types of characters that attend a GW store that happen to be discussing lesbians are more than likely not going to be on about liberties, women's rights and the feminist movement, and the artistic portryal of a genderless, or gender-equal society through a lesbian relationship....

Pacific wrote:Gymnogyps, that is quite a genuinely awful story. Sadly, you occasionally get social misfits working in GWs, and it's good that they were got rid of.

Ovion wrote:Yeah, the standard policy in GW is the models must be GW product.

The exception being bases and some bitz (blades / guns / etc) scratchbuilt Apoc units, but even then they generally need to be at least 50% GW Product ( I tend to find large amounts of Sprue Rubble on bases and Greenstuff to do the job of bringing up the percentage. )

Exception being scratch built apoc units that are just unreasonably awesome enough to stay.

I've regularly used entire squads that are not GW models in a store. My IG army is a mix of Pig Iron heads, heavy-walkers and Copplestone Castings terminators. There is even an Infinity model in there, the key is:
- Paint your models, so it is not immediately obvious.
- Don't draw attention to them - if 'that kid' points them out, refute his claim (I always say the Copplestone Castings models are OOP Necrons for instance)
- Don't be a prat and behave like it is your God-given right to use them. It helps if you know the guy working in the store, but always be conscientious with their use.
- Spend money in the store, if the guy working in there is not a complete jobsworth then usually that gives you some breathing room.

Of course the best answer is to play in a club or FLGS, and to revel in the freedom that they offer you, but if you are smart about it you can play unmolested most of the time. I've been at events in Warhammer World where 'best painted' armies have had non-GW components and even models in them, but so much of it comes down to your behaviour and whether you try and behave like a wise guy.

Frazzled wrote:

kronk wrote:

Frazzled wrote:Beware the Cougar, for no good can come from those fiendish claws.

I respectfully disagree.

In a GW, I'm gonna disagree right back.

1. High chance are married. Das ist nicht gut!
2. If not married, definitely has at least one demon spawnling. Being the evil step dad is not for the faint of heart.

The other day my gaming group of 8 came to my house to play. We play on three tables in my basement and often times run mini tournaments that span a couple of weeks. This time though a young kid around 13 (we're all in our mid twenties) showed up with one of the guys who had never played but loved to paint. He was kind of a funny looking kid who was a round as a basketball and had the brightest red hair that I have ever seen. He asked to be called "Fat Toby".

Fat Toby had picked up a codex and an ork codex and had painted them AND converted a bunch of models without ever knowing anyone who played. I was very impressed by his models which were exquisitly done and far superior to even the best of our own. I guess some people just have an innate talent. Any way, I drew his name for the first battle. I was excited and a little scared as my Biel Tan army was not outfitted to fight his swarm army. I was also excited to help him learn how to play.

Turn one came around and nothing happened except for movement which he had down pat. Turn two and I finally got to shoot his Skar Boyz with shuriken pistols. Then it happened. Fat toby reached into his bag and pulled out a hand full of D20's. We all thought he was kidding and started laughing. After we explained that he needed a 4+ (or whatever it is) on a D6 Fat Toby grabbed his warboss and chucked it against the wall. He then started to say how impossible it was to roll a 6+ for his boyz on a D6 and that he only bought the "Stupid Orks" cause they were cheap and he thought that he had a 3/4 chance to save on his normal boys. He then tossed two of his Killa Kans onto the floor and crushed them beneath his feet. His face matched his the color of his bright red hair and he was screaming abot how long he'd painted his Orks and how much of a waste it was. He stomped out of the house and down the street. I ran after the poor guy and asked him if I could at least help him pack up his stuff and give him a ride home. He said that he would walk and that I could keep his *blankety blank* army. I've not seen or heard from him since then which was over a month ago.
I glued the warboss together, though the Kans were toast and ended up with the finest painted army that I own. The only problem is that I feel that we lost a good painter and a possible fine future member to the gaming community.

"Can I get three Mage Knight boosters, please?"

It was a bright, sunny and unbearably hot Saturday in mid-June and, as usual, I was trapped behind the counter in the gaming store I worked at part-time. The skinny nerd in front of me requesting Mage Knight boosters was covered in acne and wore a stained Punisher tee-shirt, his sweaty, eager palm clutching a slightly damp 20 dollar bill. His name was Billy and he was in here all the damn time. Half-lidded, I grabbed three boxes of that accursed clicking-figures game and tossed them on the counter. He picked one of them up.

"No, dude, hand me the box of them. I need to test the weight, I'm looking for a rare." said Billy.

Somebody fething shoot me. It's not that I hated gaming nerds; hell, a sizable percentage of them were surprisingly friendly and decent people who had an incurable obsession, like lovable alcoholics. Unfortunately the latest craze was a game called Mage Knight, which is a game where Wizards of the Coast takes money from teenagers in exchange for a box of poorly painted little action figures where you incessantly click the numbers around on the base and pretend the toys are killing eachother. I thought it was slowed, mostly because it attracted the worst kind of gamer: the obsessive collector. The kid in front of me was clearly one of these.

The bells we'd attached to the door rang and in stepped a slender redhead wearing nude lipstick and a babydoll tee-shirt with Edward Scissorhands on it. Her name was Nicole, and she was surprisingly attractive, which meant she probably wasn't here to pretend she was a dwarf or click little figures and shout obscure rules at a fat bearded guy in suspenders.

"Someone's girlfriend is here to pick them up," I thought to myself. We had girls come in to the store but nine times out of ten they were someone's mother or fiancee or wife, an enabler that couldn't break their beloved's crippling nerd habit. If they were there to game then they either already had a boyfriend or were 500 pounds and balding.

So when this girl came up to the counter and asked if we had the latest Magic: The Gathering booster set, you can imagine my confusion. If it were in my power to have summoned a question mark to stand boldly over my head, I surely would have.

"Sure, we've got it." I took the box down from the shelf and set it in front of her, finishing up the other nerd's transaction.

"Whoa, a girl who plays magic!" said Billy, a sort of derisive sneer crossing his scarred-up adolescent face.

Nicole rolled her eyes and rooted through the booster box. Billy stood there staring at her a while.

"Did you need something else, man?" I said, sitting back on my stool and picking up my newspaper.

"Oh.. uh, no.." he stammered, still staring at Nicole, who was rifling through the box like a coke addict scrounging in his couch cushions for change. Billy scuttled off back to the Gulag, which was the big free-gaming area we had in the rear of the store.

Nicole selectred three packs of cards and pulled out her wallet just as Tom came swaggering from out of the Gulag.

Tom was a regular, but he was the kind of regular nobody really wanted around. He was short, around 5 foot 6 or so, with a skinny build and an absolutely tragic haircut, parted at the side and neatly combed over the dome of his skull, with occasional stray hairs sticking out. He had beady little eyes and a moustache we all referred to as "chomo", which is short for something very unpleasant. Tom worked as a tech support guy at America Online, which had a big plant just east of where we were at. Routinely he'd come in to the store dressed in his work clothes, which was an ugly white polo shirt, khaki slacks and his dorky little employee badge hanging from his belt. This was the kind of guy who actually wore his celphone in a stupid little belt clip, like some kind of techie wannabe cowboy, fastest nerd in the west. He liked Warhammer and Battletech and every time a girl came into the store his "creepy scuzzbag" alarm went off and he arrived on the scene, ready to flirt. Frequently he's chased female customers off, to the point where we weren't sure if we should even allow him to come into the store anymore; unfortunately, Tom spent so much on games that if we kicked him out, the slow trickle of returning females wouldn't spend enough to make up what we'd lose by giving Tom the boot.

It was no surprise to me that Billy must have reported to him that there was a cute girl in the store. As he came strutting up to the counter, I was just finishing up Nicole's transaction, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey Swami, can I get some Magic cards, man?"

"Tom, you don't play Magic." Oh christ. He's trying to pick up on this girl by buying Magic cards? Time to throw up the cockblock shield.

"I want to learn man! Are you denying me a sale?" I rolled my eyes again and pushed the booster box over near Tom. Nicole lit up a little and smiled at him.

"Oh, you wanna learn how to play?" she said.

If you've ever seen the Chuck Jones version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas, then you can envision the disgusting, villainous smile that creeped its way across Tom's wormy little mouth.

"Yeah! Hey, I've never seen you in here before." Tom said, turning to rest his elbow against the counter.

"Oh, the one store near my house closed so now I have to drive over here to get cards." Nicole said.

"Thank god for that. No competition is good competition." I said. Nicole laughed.

Tom faked a laugh. "So, do you wanna teach me how to play?"

"Sure! I hardly know anyone around here, I need someone to play with!" Nicole said. No, Tom, don't. Don't, please. Nicole, you know not of what you speak.

"Oh yeah, me too." He said, his voice clearly hinting at a stomach-turning innuendo. What a shitheel.

The two tottered off back to the Gulag and I sighed heavily. I expected her come running out screaming within an hour. A few hours later they walked back through the front of the store and stood near the entrance. Tom touched Nicole on the shoulder and smiled.

"Thanks for the lesson! Hey, what are you doing tonight?" he said. He moves quick.

"Uh, I think my mom wants me to be home for dinner." she said, moving for the door. Oh good, she's caught the foul stench of Tom's true intentions.

"Oh, okay. I'm having a party, is all. Hey so, are you gonna come back and teach me some more?"

"Sure!" Nicole smiled. "See you around!"

Nicole left and Tom swaggered on up to the counter.

"And THAT" he said, pointing at me, "Is how you pick up a hot chick! Learn from the MASTER, son!"

"Hey Tom, how old is she?" Tom shrugged.

"Sixteen."

"And you're how old?"

"Twenty three."

"You realize that makes you a creepy feth, right?" I said, turning down my newspaper. "Pft, you're just jealous because you have no skills with the ladies."

"I have a girlfriend, Tom, and she's my age and I didn't have to buy fething Magic cards to flirt with her."

"Whatever man." Tom scuttled back to the Gulag to return to his Warhammer match.

he next weekend Nicole came back, and I was happy to see her, because Justin was in the store. Justin was a really nice little somewhat-emo kid who was 16, played Magic and had a good head on his shoulders. I'd hoped Nicole would take a liking to him and put a stop to Tom's ridiculous cradle-robbing antics. Lucky for me, Justin was sitting at the demo table we kept in the front of the store, sorting his cards, when Nicole stepped in.

"Hey Swami!" Nicole said, cheerfully.

"Sup." I said. "Hey, Justin, this is Nicole, she's looking for someone to play Magic with." Justin lifted his head and smiled a little.

"Oh yeah? Cool." Ah, the wheels were turning. Nicole went over to the demo table and started commenting on Justin's cards.

My work here was done. Or so I thought.

The bells on the front door rang and in came Tom, holding a big card box, wearing his terminally dorky work clothes.

"Hey Nicole!" he practically shouted. "I brought some cards, are you ready to play?" Nicole lifted her head.

"Oh, yeah, maybe a little later, this guy here has some amazing decks." Nicole said, sitting down next to Justin. Atta girl.

"Well hey, maybe we can have a three-way! A little, you know, meh-nayge-ah-troys!" Tom said. It was all I could do to not leap over the counter and strangle him until his eyes popped out of his worthless little skull. I wasn't sure what offended me more; his slaughtering of the french language or the fact that he was so aggressively pursuing a sixteen year old. Justin fortunately had more sense than I'd thought.

"Dude, there's like, a Battletech tournament in the back. You're like, third on the list." Justin said.

"Oh, you're right. gak, I forgot. Hey, I'll come out after I'm done and we'll all play together, okay?" Tom said, moving back towards the Gulag.

"Sure!" Nicole said, and gave him a little wave. Tom gave her a thumbs-up. Christ, what a [see forum posting rules].

"That guy's kind of a creep." Justin said.

"Yeah, but he's nice anyway and I need people to play Magic with." Nicole pursed her lips.

"He's probably just like... trying to hit on you. Anyway did you want to play?" and the two kids started sorting out their cards.

About an hour later Nicole got up and went to the bathroom, so Justin sat back and put his feet on the chair in front of him. Tom came out, sweating like a pig.

"Hey, where's Nicole?" he asked.

"She's off reporting you to the police for being a pederast." I said. Justin laughed.

"Eight-year-olds, dude!" Justin snapped. This kid was alright.

"Very funny, you little fether." Tom barked to Justin. "I saw her first." he sneered.

"Go feth yourself, Tom. She isn't interested in you." Justin just sat back, shuffling his cards.

"Tom, she's way too young for you and if you scare off another female customer I'm going to ban you from the store." I said, crossing my arms. It was an empty threat, because the five to six hundred bucks Tom spent in the store every month was worth far more to me than Nicole's business, but I wanted to scare him. Just then Nicole came out. Tom turned to regard her.

"Hey Nicole, ready to play?"

"Actually Justin and I were going to get some lunch." she said, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Oh! Well hey, I'm starving, can I come along?" Tom begged.

"No." Justin said. I laughed. So did Nicole. Tom got all huffy and turned, stomping back to the Gulag. Nicole and Justin sauntered out of the store. I liked where this was going.

20 minutes later Tom comes walking out of the Gulag, clearly pissed off, his beady little eyes straining to express anger.

"Swami, that was fethed UP dude." He said, slamming is hand on the counter.

"What? Tom, get a fething grip. She's not interested in you and you are WAY TOO fething OLD FOR HER."

"Oh yeah? Well there's a spark there. She likes me. You can't deny that she has a thing for me!

Did you see the way she waved at me?"

"Did you hear the way she laughed when Justin completely shut your ass down? Stop being such a gak, Tom, and give it up. Enough, this is over."

"It's not up to you!"

"You're right, but I can still do something about it. Leave her alone, man. She's a customer and you're harassing her."

"It's not harassment!" Just as Tom said this, Justin and Nicole came in. They were holding hands. Justin works fast, I'll give him that.

"Hey kids." I said, standing up from my stool. Tom stomped up to Justin.

"This isn't over!" he said, fuming mad and storming out the door. Justin and Nicole rolled their eyes and went over to the table to start up another game.

The next day was a Sunday and the store was especially busy. Justin came in a little early, holding a stack of papers.

"Hey Justin, what's up?" I asked, surprised to see him in so early.

"Dude, you have to see what I found on the internet." He turned his stack of papers around.

What greeted me was a black and white photocopied image of Tom, completely nude, standing in front of his bed, his meaty little hand gripping a tiny appendage I could only assume was supposed to be his penis. His hair was sticking up all over and he had a big gak-eating grin on his face. I burst into an epic laugh that must have lasted 10 minutes long. I actually fell off my stool.

"Dude, that is fething SICK! Oh my GOD!" I said. "Put that gak away!"

"Hell no man! Is Tom here?"

"Yeah, he's in the back, but..."

Nicole walked in and smiled upon seeing Justin.

"Hey!" she said, walking up to him and giving him a hug from behind.

"Hey Nicole, check this..." He didn't even finish his sentence before Nicole saw the photo and burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. Justin grinned and sauntered on back to the Gulag. I didn't follow, and neither did Nicole. We sat and waited.

All I heard was "HEY GUYS, CHECK IT OUT!" followed by what appeared to be stunned silence, which was followed by the loudest laughter I've ever heard in my life. 30 nerds laughing at the top of their lungs, and then one anguished scream. Justin came bolting out of the Gulag.

"I better get the feth out of here!" he said, grabbing Nicole's arm. Tom shot out from the back room and grabbed Justin by the back of the shirt, pushing Nicole to the floor.

"HEY! KNOCK IT THE feth OFF!" I yelled, standing up and moving to walk around the counter and stop Tom from wailing on Justin. It was too late; Tom's fist came down on Justin's face and he cracked him in the jaw. Justin had apparently made big plans for that photo, because the big stack of copies he'd made went flying everywhere, Tom's grinning, naked mug covering the floor. I moved to grab Tom's shoulders, but Justin wasn't having any of it. He kicked up and nailed Tom right in his tiny little testicles, which sent Tom to the floor in agony. Justin dropped to his knees and started wailing on Tom's face, battering his nose up and breaking out one of his teeth, surrounded by the photo.

"Wait, stop, dude, no." I said plainly, crossing my arms and standing there. By now a huge crowd had gathered and someone was frantically calling the police on his celphone, but nobody was moving to pull Justin off of Tom, who at this point had become a crumpled little bloody ball on the floor. Justin stood up and spat on him, turning back to help Nicole up off the floor. Tom started crying, curling into a fetal position. Everyone just stood there, watching him bleed all over the tile.

He deserved every blow. What an donkey-cave.

THE END